


won't you paint my skin with a warmer glow

by Weaseltotheface



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, tattoo artist yasha, you all know the tweet this is based off probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28778844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weaseltotheface/pseuds/Weaseltotheface
Summary: Beau's been looking for someone to do her first tattoo and Jester might have just found her the perfect person to do it.Tattoo artist AU based off that one tweet everyone knows about
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 16
Kudos: 225





	won't you paint my skin with a warmer glow

"Beau! Beau Beau Beau!"

Startled, Beau looks up from where she had been studying, notes and books and pens littered over her desk and spilling onto the floor, a forkful of her breakfast held in her hand, to where Jester is standing in the doorway to her room.

The tiefling is obviously excited, slightly out of breath and eyes glittering. Fangs bared in a toothy grin she’s nearly vibrating with it. Her tail thrashes as if with a mind of it’s own and neither of the girls even blinks an eye when an errant thwap knocks a picture off a nearby shelf.

Beau looks at her, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, Jessie?"

"You know how Orly was interviewing that artist that I said would be PERFECT to do your tattoo for you??" 

Beau just nods absent-mindedly, shoving her food into her mouth and turning the page on her notes

"Fjord just texted me and he said Orly hired her!! She's so good and nice, Beau she's gonna do a great job!"

"I still don't see why you can't just do it for me." Beau grumbles slightly, taking another bite of her breakfast.

"I'm still just an apprentice, Beauuuu. My specialty isn't with geometry anyway, straight lines are really hard and I don't like to do them!"

"Whatever you say, Jes." Beau murmurs, the words muffled by bacon and distraction.

"Fjord says she's there now and I need to go get ready for my session with Orly anyway so I’m gonna get her to look at the design and see about getting you a slot, ok bye!"

It takes all of 30 seconds for Jester to throw on a sweater and grab her bag and keys, which jangle harshly when they knock against the drywall. The door slams soon after and Beau can hear her roommate start to clomp dangerously down the stairs, quickly followed by the distinct crashing sound of a tiefling tumbling ass over horns and a loud swear.

Beau pauses for a moment, until she hears the door to the apartment building open with a bang, and leans out the window.

"You good, Jessie?"

"I'm fine, Beau thank you for asking!" 

Any reply Beau might have shouted down was drowned out by the sickly, popping roar of Jester's crimson red Jeep coming to life and peeling haphazardly down the road. 

Chuckling, she turns back to her notes, hardly bothered. 

“Where does she find that energy…” she mutters to herself, turning another page, scratching down another note, taking full advantage of the quiet. 

\--

It’s an hour of study and notetaking before she hears from Jester again. 

In true Jester fashion, the harsh staccato buzz of her text notification sounds multiple times in a row. She watches the texts pop up one after the other, waiting patiently for them to finish up. 

_**Hi Bau!** _

**_Beau!_ **

**_I hope your studying is going well!! Hope i’m not interrupting u_ **

**_I showed yasha the design we worked on and she rly likes it! Shes totally ready to get ti done whenever!!_ **

**_Her portfolio is INSANE ill send u some pics it’s gonna look so good beau wow._ **

**_She won’t have any clients for a while cos she’s still setting up and stuff but she’s willing to let u be her first ;D_ **

**_wowzers.jpg_ **

**_bigsexy.jpg_ **

**_fuckinshit.jpg_ **

**_Enjoy beau!! Bye!!_ **

**_Wow ok thanks Jessie, I’ll take a look_ **

**_Tell...Yasha(?) I said thanks._ **

Beau scratches the back of her neck, taps her fingers on her desk. 

Contemplates.

_Nothin to lose I guess. Hope she’s as good as Jessie says._

And...wow.

She is.

The images are immaculate. 

The photos themselves are well lit and staged, but the art itself is what stands out, as it should. Bold dark lines, impossibly straight geometry. Even the thinner lines seem to have not a hint of waver. 

It’s breathtaking. This woman is obviously talented, skill like this is hard to come by, especially in her price range. 

_**Jes, these are incredible??** _

**_I can’t afford this kind of quality right now?_ **

She types the messages out quick, not really expecting a reply anytime soon, and tosses her the phone onto the desk. A couple of papers skid a few inches and maybe a pen clatters to the floor but it goes unnoticed while she pulls up instagram on her laptop. 

Biting her lip she types in the url that was watermarked on the corners of the photos that Jester had sent her. 

_Orphanmaker._

Fuckin badass. 

The page loads without fuss, even on their, to be frank, absolutely shitty wifi. Near instantly, hundreds of photos pop up, one after another while she scrolls mindlessly through. 

Beau wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find here to be honest. Obviously, some magnificent art, maybe (hopefully) a picture of the woman who would quite possibly be running her hands all over her sides. And there was artwork. But also a lot of flowers?

A.

Lot.

Of flowers. 

_Must like flowers a lot_ , Beau muses, continuing her scroll.

So it’s really no surprise that among the impeccably detailed and, frankly, supernaturally straight lines of her geometric work there are absolutely _beautiful_ florals. 

Flowers of all types on all types of bodies, colored and greyscale, each detail obviously placed with love for the craft and the subject matter. 

And flowers were never Beau’s thing, not really. Sure they’re nice to look at sometimes, but that’s about it. She had never once thought to put one on her body. 

But wow. 

Maybe she does now. 

Her musing is cut short by another series of rapid, buzzing text notifications.

_**Don’t be silly Beau!** _

**_Yasha is very nice she’s letting u have a friend discount_ **

**_Cuz she likes me so much and i’m soooo fun_ **

Friend discount huh.

Alright.

_**That’s very nice of her…** _

**_Well, you have my schedule let her know I’m free any of those times, I’ll make it work_ **

**_And say thanks from me again, seriously_ **

**_her work is incredible_ **

\--

The day of the appointment came much sooner than Beau had been anticipating, despite the weeks leading up, and nervous might be a bit of an understatement.

“You sure she’s cool doing this for me, Jes?” Beau asked, throwing her hair into a top knot. 

Scoffing, Jester throws a pillow across the room at her. 

“Yes, Beau!” She throws her hands up in the air, “I’ve been sure the last six times you asked. It’s going to be fine, she’s really chill. You’re going to looove her she’s the best.” 

Beau, for her part, just lets the pillow smack her in the face, “I know. Sorry. I guess I’m just nervous.”

“You don’t need to be nervous, Beau! You do martial arts! The pain won’t be too bad probably. Maybe.” Jester’s tail twitches behind her, “I mean you probably won’t pass out or anything.” 

“That’s exceedingly unhelpful.” 

Jester rolls her eyes and stands up, stretching, “That’s life, babe. Now hurry up!! Your appointment is in half an hour and you’re lucky I’m driving you!” 

She saunters out of the room, leaving Beau to grumble to herself and check over her outfit one last time. 

Comfy pants? Check.

Loose shirt? Check

Decent coverage but comfortable sports bra just in case? 

Check.

“Ok, ok, ok. You can do this, Beau. Pain is easy. This tattoo is gonna look sick as hell and will be totally worth it.” 

A quick detour to the bathroom later and she’s ready to go. Jester has her keys in hand and a down right maniacal grin on her face. 

“I don’t like that smile, Jessie.” 

It only gets bigger, fangs gleaming. 

“Oh I know. I’m just excited for you to meet Yasha and get this tattoo. It's gonna look so good, Beau.” 

Before she can respond, Jester grips her hard around the wrist and drags her out the door and down the stairs, thankfully not haphazardly enough to take a spill this time. 

“Jessie! We need to lock the door!” 

“Psssh, no it’s fine, Beau, we don’t have time.” The tiefling waves her hand dismissively and jumps into the old jeep, “Get in the car, Beau.” 

Grimacing, Beau slides in, “I wish you had doors on this thing…” 

Jester rolls her eyes again, “And I wish you’d learn to drive so you wouldn’t be nitpicky about Sprinkle anymore but here we are.” 

“I still can’t believe you named it Sprinkle.” 

The glare she gets in response is honestly terrifying, and the sound the jeep makes as it turns over is equally as concerning. 

Beau barely bites back a cringe.

“Ok ok, point taken.” 

The jeep lurches into drive without a second thought, careening down the street and dodging potholes at a completely inadvisable speed. Beau’s fists are white knuckled on the bars, eyes wide. 

“This isn’t helping my nerves, Jessie! Why do you drive like this!” 

“It’s fun!” Jester laughs, barely managing to skid into the turn she needed, “Besides if I didn’t drive fast how would we have gotten here so quick!” 

Sure enough, Jester slams on her breaks right outside of Orly’s shop, The Nien Heroz. Beau lets out a ragged sigh and gradually tries to loosen her death grip on the car. 

“I...I need a minute.” 

“Beau don’t be such a baby.” Jester puffs a strand of hair out of her face, “Fine, I’ll let Yasha know we’re here and you’ll be in soon.” 

Jester bounds over to the door, yelling for Orly and Yasha before she even opens it and Beau takes the moment to slow her heart rate and breathe. Her eyes close of their own volition and she slips nearly unwillingly, habitually into meditation. Counting her breaths. Centering her energy. Letting the outside fall away for a brief moment. 

So, of course, that means she doesn’t hear anyone coming up to her. 

“Hey, are you good?” The voice is soft at least, so her startle response is subdued.

She still jumps a little.

Of course. 

“Shit!,” Beau sputters for a moment before locking eyes with the stranger, “Fuck...yeah I’m-I’m good. That must have looked kinda weird.” 

The woman smiles, “It’s no problem, I just wanted to check.” She rakes mismatched eyes over the jeep, “You must be, Beau?” 

She must have looked confused because the woman elaborates.

“Ah, I recognize, Jester’s….car.” She holds out a hand, “I’m Yasha, I’m doing your tattoo today.” 

“Oh! Yasha! Wow.” 

Beau grabs the offered hand to shake and is immediately overcome. Yasha’s palm is warm and calloused but somehow still soft. And...big. Very big. She’s a small woman in general, built for deftness and speed, so her hand is dwarfed by this woman. 

She takes the moment to look Yasha over. 

Respectfully. 

Six feet at least. Obviously strong, her black shirt tight against her shoulder muscles and the multiple detailed floral tattoos that grace her forearms only accentuate the cut of them. Her hair is a wild mess of braids and tangles, black to white ombre really selling the death metal viking aesthetic. 

So like.

Definitely Beau’s type. 

She feels her mouth go dry at the thought of this woman putting her hands all over her. 

Yasha’s brow furrows slightly. 

“You sure you’re ok? You look kinda...paleish?” 

Beau nods, squeezes Yasha’s hand a little firmer and pulls away with a small laugh, “Yeah! Yeah, totally fine. Maybe a little nervous. It’s my first tattoo.” 

Surprise melts over Yasha’s face, brows raised, “Wow. I saw the design, pretty ambitious for a first tattoo. Especially over the ribs.” 

“That doesn’t really ease my mind there.” Beau chuckles nervously, finally sliding out of the jeep. 

Yasha has the decency to look slightly abashed, a flush starting to tinge her cheeks. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m admittedly not the best at the other parts of being a tattoo artist...like the comfort and things.” 

Beau does laugh at that, from the chest, “That is a _mood_ , bro. I’m not good at that stuff either. And don’t worry, I do do martial arts, I have some experience with pain and managing it so I think I’ll be alright. Hopefully.” 

Thankfully that does seem to put the other woman at ease.

“That does sound helpful.” She nods and gestures towards the door, “Shall we?” 

Grinning, Beau takes a few big strides to open the door, waving Yasha inside, “After you.” 

What can only be called a giggle forces it’s way from Yasha, “Well then. Thank you.” 

She’s barely over the threshold before a blur of blue launches itself into her arms with a cry of her name. Yasha responds with a laugh and a hello and she waves at Fjord, who’s watching from the reception desk. 

“Hello, Jester. Fjord.” 

Jester giggles, hanging off of Yasha’s neck while she tries to get herself settled. 

“Yasha you weren’t here when I came in! You’re not usually late.” 

For her part, Yasha doesn’t even seem to notice the extra weight of the tiefling on her back as she begins setting up her work space, 

“Yes, Molly was being...Molly. He got his horn jewelry stuck in the curtains again and I had to help him.” 

“Again?? Oh, Molly.” Jester sighs and lets herself slip from Yasha’s shoulders, landing with a thwump. 

Watching from her place at the desk, Beau raises an eyebrow, “Does this happen a lot?” She asks Fjord, gesturing with a lazy hand at Jester and Yasha. 

“Pretty often. Yasha’s very indulgent of Jester’s whims.” He sighs, “It’s very...cute.” 

“Have you asked her out yet?” 

Fjord gives her a dead eye stare.

“Yasha’s a lesbian, why would I ask her out.” 

“Ok first of all, fuck you, ask Jester out she likes you.” Beau tries to take a subtle glance over to where Yasha is showing Jester some of her equipment, “Secondly, thanks for the info.” 

Fjord makes a face, “Oh gross, don’t hit on your tattoo artist, Beau.” 

“Your advice is noted and discarded.” 

She shoots a smirk at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Seriously though, it’s bad form. Don’t hit on your tattoo artist.” 

Beau chuckles, “Yeah, I know, I’m not a garbage person. Besides, I’ll be in too much pain to do shit like that. Probably.” 

Fjord doesn’t get a chance to reply because Jester’s voice butts in quickly.

“Beau stop being antisocial and come meet Yasha.” 

She snorts, giving Fjord a slap on the shoulder as a goodbye and making her way over to Yasha’s station.

“Hon,” out of the corner of her eye she sees Yasha’s eyebrow raise slightly, “we walked in together, we met outside.” 

Jester’s lower lip juts out and she puffs her cheeks up, “Oh boo, that’s no fun. Fine, I’m gonna go print out your stencil Beau. Yasha can get you ready.” 

Both Yasha and Beau watch the other woman saunter past Fjord with a wink and disappear into the back room. 

“I cannot believe that fool thinks Jester doesn’t like him.” Beau mutters to herself, watching her friend blush to the tip of his ears. 

Yasha blinks, lips quirked into a little frown. 

“Oh, are you two...not together?” 

“M-me and Jessie?” Beau sputters, eyes wide. “No! No, not at all! We’re roomies. She’s my best friend.” 

Yasha hums and nods, pink faintly glowing in the tips of her ears while she continues to set up her station, “Ah, ok. Sorry if that was a weird question. I’m still not terribly used to the customs here yet. The pet names threw me off.” 

Beau tilts her head to the side ever so slightly, realizing for the first time that Yasha does have a slight accent.

“That’s understandable, honestly it’s kind of new to me too, I didn’t have a lot of female friends growing up and Jester is really into the nicknames thing, she wore me down on it. It’s kind of nice though.” 

And it is. 

Nice that is. 

In a hard to place, mushy sort of way, that someone likes you enough to give you nicknames. 

“It sounds nice, I didn’t have many friends growing up either.” Yasha tells her, voice low and soothing while she arranges some inks on her table and rummages around in a drawer, pulling out a disposable razor.

“So, where are you from then? Did you just move here?” Beau can’t help but ask, noting her slight accent again. 

“Oh,” Yasha fumbles a bottle, “Um...I’m from Xhorhas originally...I’ve been in the Empire for a couple of years by now, I think. My roommate, Mollymauk, and I originally traveled with a circus before settling in Zadash.” 

Beau’s eyebrows shoot up, a toothy grin spreading across her face, “A circus? Wild. Did you do any acts? I bet you can juggle.” 

An honest laugh bubbles from Yasha’s chest and Beau can’t help but smile at it. 

“No, no. I can’t juggle, there were many attempts to teach me but I just don’t have what it takes I guess.” She sets the rest of her supplies on her little table, “I was security mostly, helped set up the tent, kept out the rowdy folks.” 

Beau eyes her up and down.

“Yeah. That tracks.” 

Yasha clears her throat, pink beginning to settle in the tips of her ears again.

“Ah, anyway, I need to prep you for the tattoo.” 

Tattoo. 

Oh. 

Yes.

That’s why she’s here. 

Not to flirt. 

Heat prickles the back of Beau’s neck and she chuckles unsteadily. 

“Mhmm, yep what do I need to do.” 

“Not much on your part,” Yasha tells her, crooking a beckoning finger, “Just stand over by me for a second. I need to wash and shave your side where the tattoo is going. Even the smallest, peach fuzziest hair can interfere with the tattoo so its good form to just shave it.” 

Beau does as she’s told, stepping in close to Yasha. She can feel the heat rolling off the other woman clear as day from where she’s standing between her knees, inches of airspace between them at any point.

She catches Fjord’s eye purely by happenstance, his face scrunched in exasperation. Her eyes roll involuntarily at him. 

He’s gotta learn to mind his own business. 

“We may need to take the shirt off, if that’s ok. I can try to work around it but it’s usually easier to just be rid of it. If that’s ok with you, of course.” 

There’s a shaky timber to Yasha’s voice. An unsteadiness that Beau isn’t 100% sure she isn’t just imagining. 

But the thought of this woman getting nervous over her?

Fucking amazing. 

Not that she really needs the ego boost. 

It’s nice though. 

She huffs a laugh and shrugs, “No skin off my nose, I don’t mind.” 

The shirt comes off easy, leaving her in the comfortable sports bra she had picked out. Not sexy per se, but functional and not too tight. 

And she is definitely not imagining the red in Yasha’s cheeks now. 

Very interesting. 

“O-ok then, good to know.” Yasha clears her throat with a little cough, reaching for the razor, “Ok, this is gonna be a little cold.” 

Goosebumps ripple out from first contact along with the harsh smell of rubbing alcohol. Yasha is quick and precise in her methodology, cleaning the area thoroughly, and then prepping it to be shaved.

The slide of the razor over her ribs and side is...unusual. Not the place razors tend to be in, at least for her. She tries her best to not flinch at the ticklish feeling of it running along the sensitive skin. 

“Stop squirming, Beau, I’m going to nick you.” 

Mission failed. 

“Sorry, sorry. Hopefully I won’t do that during the tattoo.” She tries for a joke. 

Yasha hums in acknowledgement, wiping her down with rubbing alcohol again.

“Don’t worry about that, if you start squirming I’ll just pin you down.” 

She says it so nonchalantly, surely something she’s said many times over the course of her career as a tattoo artist. Completely innocent. 

Beau does not react nonchalantly. 

It’s almost funny how immediately the image comes to mind. It’s decidedly not funny how immediately her face heats up with an obvious blush. 

No hiding that reaction. Yasha will definitely know how non-innocently her words were taken. 

“Heh, I can think of worse things.” Beau cringes immediately, voice squeaky.

Oh, no that was not the thing to say. 

Apologies are on the tip of her tongue but Yasha just laughs, mirth crinkling the corners of her eyes. 

“Good to know.” 

There’s a moment of silence.

“...guh…”

The peak of eloquence as always. 

A smirk stretches the tattoo on Yasha’s lip. 

And Hurricane Jester finally emerges from the back room, door ricocheting off the wall with a bang, stencil floating in the breeze.

“Gee wiz, you guys the printer is NOT being nice to me today. Took forever for it to print right.” The pout on Jester’s mouth is, generally speaking, a standard fixture. She looks between the two other women suspiciously, “Why are you both so red?” 

Yasha fumbles another bottle of ink and Beau watches, fascinated, as she notices the red creeping up the back of her pale neck. 

“D-don’t worry about it.” Yasha mumbles, avoiding eye contact, “The stencil looks great, good job.” 

“Hmmmm. Sure. Ok.” Jester hands the stencil to Yasha carefully, “I totally believe you.” 

“Ok, so what now.” Beau asks quickly, watching Jester’s face for signs of mischief, but the other woman just leaves, quickly making her way over to Fjord with a shout of his name. 

Yasha wiggles the stencil paper in front of her, “Well first things first, we’re gonna apply this to your side and make sure it’s in a good place for me to tattoo and that it’s in a place that you like. If you don’t like the position we can remove it and print out a new stencil.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” 

“Alright, arm up.” Yasha tells her, getting up close.

The stencil application takes less than a minute, the majority of it being Yasha scrutinizing the placement of the thing. Lining up the angles symmetrically and evenly. Beau feels the goosebumps shiver up her spine again when the woman finally applies the paper to her side with firm warm hands.

She really, really wants those hands to pin her down.

Wow. 

She’s gonna be here for hours with those hands on her. 

“Ok, Beau. Take a look in the mirror and stretch around, see how it looks and if it seems like a good spot.” 

“It looks perfect, Yasha. Wow.” She does a couple of torso twists in the mirror, watching how the lines bend and flex with her skin. “This is gonna look so dope.” 

Yasha chuckles and Beau looks over her shoulder at her with a grin, watching her pour ink into cups. 

“What’s funny, huh?” Beau ribs, keeping her tone playful as possible. 

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know. You’re very excited and it’s cute. And the word dope is kind of silly I guess.” 

Grinning, Beau agrees, “I guess it is kind of a funny word.” 

There’s a click and a whirring sound, Yasha testing her equipment, and she turns to face Beau.

“Alright, come lay on the table, get as comfortable as possible. I can grab one of the couch pillows if you need it.” 

The plastic squeaks under her weight when she hops up. She takes a moment to stretch out, cat-like, to loosen herself up for the monotony to come. It’s not easy to find a good position but a few well placed wiggles and a couch pillow and she’s set. 

“This is as comfy as it gets I think.” 

She can feel Yasha’s eyes on her, scrutinizing. 

“Can I move your arm up just a little bit?” She does so. “Perfect. You ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be I guess.”

Buzzing starts up immediately. 

“Alright, don’t tense up, it’ll make it worse. I’m starting now.” 

She feel’s Yasha’s hands first, pulling her skin taut, and then the hot, scratching pain of the needle.

“Oh. Ok. Wow. That is not pleasant at all.” 

Laughing Yasha replies, “No, you’re getting stabbed thousands of times a minute it's not really pleasant for most people.” 

Her voice is low and soothing to her frayed nerves, the sound of it calming tense muscles. Beau slowly loosens her clenched fist, remembering to breathe. 

“Let’s chat! Tell me...about your tattoos? You seem to like flowers. What’s your favorite? Distract me.” 

If her voice devolves into a startled yelp, Yasha is nice enough not to comment. 

“Yes, I do quite enjoy flowers,” She says, wiping ink and blood away with a paper towel, “There were no flowers in the area I grew up in so they’ve been one of my greatest joys in the Empire.”

Her voice goes far away for a moment, lost in thought, “It may be a silly favorite, but the first flower I ever saw was a clover. Most people think of them as weeds but I remember how beautiful it seemed to me coming from the wastes.” 

Beau frowns, “That’s not silly, it’s really sweet. I don’t know much about flowers. I grew up in a place that didn’t have them either, Kamordah is nothing but a lot of steam vents and mud. So we have that in common!” 

“What about you, Beau,” Yasha pauses to reload her needles in an ink cup, “You said you do martial arts right? Jester mentioned you’re in a grad program also? Busy girl.” 

“Oh, she talks about me? Yeah, I’m going for a master’s in library science.” She yelps again as the needle passes over a sensitive area, “And I’ve been training with the Cobalt Soul for years now. I do tournaments sometimes.” 

“Oh, that’s really cool!” Yasha’s voice sounds enthused and genuine despite the fact that Beau can’t see if she’s smiling or not. “That thing you were doing in the car, did you learn that from your martial arts stuff?” 

“Yeah! We learn to meditate early on, I don’t do it a lot because it’s boring but it is helpful to, like, center your mind and stuff.” 

“Hmmm. Well, you might want to try some of that here in a second because I’m going to be going over a bad area. Let me know if you need a break.” 

Oh.

That doesn’t sound nice. 

Ok.

Breathe in through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

In through the nose.

Out through th-

“OH, fuck that’s a lot, dude, wow.” 

“Sorry, sorry! It’s part of the process! It’ll be over in a bit, just keep trying to relax.”

Beau does her best to loosen up, to take the pain and package it up in a little box in the back of her mind. 

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth. 

Her muscles relax.

“Good girl.” Yasha murmurs, her soft voice catching slightly on a rasp. 

And Beau

_Squeaks._

Her body locks up again, a shiver rolling from the base of her skull to the end of her tailbone.

 _Oh I really did not need a tattoo session to be awakening anything in me today...or ever._ Beau laments to herself heat flooding her face where she’s hidden it in the pillow from the couch. 

She can hear Yasha’s amused chuckle above her, soft and inviting despite the embarrassment. 

“I want to _die_ now, can I leave.” 

“No,” the tattoo machine re-engages and the needles resume their work, “Just relax, it’ll be over soon.” 

“I can’t relax now, it’s impossible.” 

“Pff, would it help if I called you a good girl again? Because you were being good before, not so much now though.” Yasha asks, amusement clear in the quiet timbre of her voice.

Beau shoves her face farther into the pillow, “NO. You’re not allowed to tease me, I’m _mortified_.”

Yasha hums, wiping some ointment onto a finished section of ink. 

“Maybe, but the embarrassment is distracting at least right?” 

Her only reply is a grunt. 

“Beau, it’s fine. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“It’s too late, I’m already embarrassed.” Beau’s voice comes out muffled, pressed as she is against the pillow. 

“Beau, seriously. If it makes you feel better, I’ve had way worse reactions from people I find far less attractive than you. So really, I don’t mind.” 

Beau yips again when the lines pass over bone and she peaks an eye out to look over her shoulder.

“You think I’m attractive?” 

Yasha’s laugh is like music, Beau decides. 

“Yes, Beau. I do. I was flirting with you.” She frowns slightly, lips pouting, “Though I have been told I’m not exceptional at it. I apologize.” 

Beau gapes. 

“You were flirting with me?”

“Yes.” 

“Fjord told me not to hit on you because it was bad form.” 

“Well, I mean. Yeah that’s fair, it is kind of bad form.” Yasha murmurs again, concentrating, “Men love to hit on me while I’m working, it’s gross.” 

Her head jerks up, like she’s startled herself.

“B-but I like you, so you. You can. Hit on me I mean. If you want?” she frowns again, “That sounds really self involved doesn’t it. I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Beau grins, “Noted. I have a free pass to flirt with the tattoo artist.” 

Yasha’s shoulders slump with a relieved sigh. “Ok...we have a little bit more to go, ok? It shouldn’t be too bad from here on and then we’re done.” 

“Sounds good. Tell me more about your flowers.” 

\--

Fjord scoffs when Beau rolls up to pay afterwards.

“I told you not to hit on her, man.” 

“First of all, you’re not my mom, Fjord, and even if you were I wouldn’t listen to you. And secondly, she hit on me first and she gave me a free pass so it’s all good.” 

“A...free pass? To... hit on her?” 

Grin stretching across her face Beau nods rapidly, “Yeah dude! I think she’s into me.” 

Fjord’s eyes widen and flick up above Beau’s shoulder. 

“You may be on the right track there.” Yasha says in her soft voice, draping an arm lightly over her shoulders and leaning down.

Oh boy. 

She holds out a flyer for Beau to take.

“Care instructions for the tattoo. Follow them.” 

She hesitates a moment before digging in her pocket and handing Beau another piece of paper. 

“Text me, if you want.” 

Oh hell yeah. 

Beau’s eyes are wide as saucers and the smile on her face a mile wide. 

“You got it.” 

A blush makes it’s home in Yasha’s cheeks. She scratches the side of her face quickly and mutters a goodbye, letting her arm slide from around Beau’s shoulders and making a hasty getaway. 

Beau watches her leave.

“You look like a fool.” 

With all the speed and strength afforded to her by her years of training Beau whips a fist out, walloping Fjord in the arm. The sound of reverbs through the open floor plan and the yelp that Fjord lets out is 

So very satisfying.

“Shut the hell up man, she gave me her number.” 

A dopey grin spreads across her face. 

“Wow. She’s so cool.” 

Fjord just pouts. 

“Whatever man, don’t hit me anymore.” 

“No promises.” 

**Author's Note:**

> there was a lot that didn't need to be in this, but i'm thinkin about doing more for this whole situation cuz i like it.


End file.
